Jenson Button ... catch him if you can

The Guernsey car park is very quiet until Team Button arrives in convoy and a cloud of dust: first his manager and trainer in an open-top Jeep, then Jenson, driving himself, in a black Mercedes. 'I hate being a passenger,'explains the F1 World Champion. 'Even on an aeroplane, I listen to all the noises, trying to work out what's going on. I think it's a control thing. What I really like is being in control of a racing car that does not want to be tamed.'

Today, sitting out in the sunshine, it is Jenson's red-gold hair that does not want to be tamed – he's concerned it's 'fluffy'. He's 30 but still has the air of being the most popular boy at school, full of banter and bonhomie, always talking about his 'guys': his father, his manager, his friends. He is wearing Gucci Aviators and flip-flops and there's something incredibly light and strong about the way he carries himself, as if he's made out of aluminium. Racing drivers, like jockeys, have to watch what they eat and he describes with semi-orgasmic excitement how, last month, he ate an almond Magnum. He runs, swims or cycles for at least an hour and a half every day – he's training for the London Triathlon in August, fund-raising for the Make-A-Wish Foundation, which arranges treats for sick children, a charity 'close to his heart'. When the children come to visit him on the racetrack, he lets them sit in his car. Last year he came second in his age group and raised £20,000, achievements he is determined to beat this year.

Born and educated in Frome, Somerset, he has recently moved to Guernsey, only because he loves running up and down the beautiful cliff paths (what else could have attracted this multimillion-pound earner to tax-capped Guernsey?). Since his non-domicile status means he can only be in England for 90 days a year, I have come to visit him here, near his new home, on a cliff-top lookout covered in wild flowers, where he points out his cycle routes and shows me his new red bike. 'Sexy, isn't she?'

Jenson seems to have his sport and sex synapses woefully confused. He makes caressing hand gestures as he explains how he handles those dangerous racetrack curves: 'For me the most important thing is to be smooth, precise and relaxed. People don't think driving is physical but it is. There's a lot of G-force, so your neck gets very tired, and there are a lot of vibrations, so you build up lactic acid in your muscles.'His eyelashes flutter as he describes the thrill of driving at 200mph. 'Your heartbeat is about 150, 160 for the whole race.'Does anything else in life compare? 'No,'he says, adding a cheeky reference to his current single status: 'Not at the moment.'

He recently split up with his girlfriend of 18 months, the half-Japanese lingerie model Jessica Michibata, who is based in Tokyo. 'It's been sad, but I wasn't seeing her very often and for me, at the moment, racing is the most important thing in my life.'A rumour went round that Jenson had banned her from spending time with him at races in order to save himself, physically, for the Grand Prix, but the truth, he says, was more prosaic – Jessica had catwalks to tread. 'She's a busy girl,'he says a touch sadly. He likes to think he was a generous boyfriend – 'Sure, I bought her those beautiful shoes, what are they, Christian Louboutins?'– but adds that, as a model, she used to get everything free anyway. He seems a little crestfallen about the whole relationship. He would like to meet someone, he says, who 'lives near home'and 'who's caring, who's actually interested in what I do'.

That said, he hardly has a good track record for commitment. He's been linked with many beauties – actress Tamsin Egerton and society model Florence Brudenell-Bruce among them – and in 2005 he split up with Fame Academy contestant Louise Griffiths, three months before they were due to get married. The invitations had even gone out. 'Mmmm,'he says, wincing at the memory. 'A lot of people said, "How could you do that to her, three months before?" But it's better to do it before than after. She understood, in the end. I spoke to her just the other day, actually. She's good. I was only 25 then and it was just too early in my life. You know, after people get married they start thinking about kids and I'm definitely not ready for that, even now.'

Instead, Monaco nightspots beckon. 'The clubs there don't close till the last person has left,'he says. Can he tell when girls are interested in him for the wrong reasons? 'Pretty easily,'he grins, but is too tactful to elucidate the telltale signs. He has a chat-up line, literally, up his sleeve – etched on his soft inner forearm is a rather literal tattoo of a chunky black button. 'Starts me up,'he says with a twinkle, and for just a second I'm concerned that Jenson is going to ask me to push his button, baby. He's already asked me if I have a boyfriend with a curiosity that is, I feel, pretty routine, but his flirtation comes across as friendly rather than predatory. Control, precision and speed are Jenson's hallmarks after all.

But the playboy has a quiet side, too. After he won the World Championship in Brazil, he had a minor crisis. 'I should have been out partying with the mechanics but I just sat in my hotel room for three or four hours thinking to myself, "What do I do now?" It's a very strange feeling when you've achieved what you've set out to do your whole life.'

When he was a child, Jenson's blond hair was his mother Simone's pride and joy. She wouldn't let him have it cut. 'I had a massive blond bob,'he remembers. 'Nice – for a girl.'He was the spoilt, much-loved only son of the family, with three elder sisters who used to dress him up and put make-up on him. His parents divorced when he was
seven, leaving him at risk of being stranded in this ultra-feminine world. No wonder he invested everything in karting sessions with his father John, a car dealer. 'I was very lucky; my dad bought me a motorbike when I was seven. Not a football. He was never pushy, always supportive. When I was 11 I remember him saying, "Karting is my hobby, but Jenson is the pilot." '

Male bonding still matters to him. He and his two triathlon buddies, part-time racing drivers who work in corporate hospitality, all have the same tattoo on their ankle, a Japanese character meaning number one. He makes friends of his workmates and works with his friends. His favourite TV programme is Entourage, Mark Wahlberg's sitcom about a good-natured star and his flunkies, friends and hangers-on. When Jenson turned 30 in January, he took 14 friends (not including Lewis Hamilton, who doubtless has his own entourage) off to the Icehotel in Sweden. 'Cool!'I say. 'Yep,'he replies drily. 'Minus five.'They went Skidooing, dog sledding, reindeer sledding, and in the evening they drank in the Icebar, out of ice glasses. 'I don't think Jessica liked it much,'he admits. Although they shared a double sleeping bag covered by furs, she found the cold hard to handle. 'No body fat,'says Jenson. 'My manager, who's got a bit of blubber on him, he was fine.'Jessica seems to have forgiven him; the pair were photographed out to dinner at Roka in London, apparently platonically, 11 days ago.

When Button races, his mother texts him 'about ten times a day'. Before a race he has a nap, then a cold shower, then a massage, then plays 'some banging tunes: Rage Against the Machine, Kings of Leon, Michael Jackson. I love a bit of Mickey J.'He shakes hands with everyone in his team, puts his helmet on, then always gets into his car from the right-hand side. It's the closest thing he has to a superstition. He knows how dangerous his sport is.

The day before our interview, he was racing at Valencia and witnessed the miraculous survival of Mark Webber after his car somer-saulted on the track. It put Button in mind of his own crash at Monaco in 2003, when he lost control and hit the wall. 'I felt as if my flesh was being ripped from my bones. That's the only way I can describe it. I think I pulled 34 Gs, which is a lot of G-force. In four or five Gs most people can't hold their heads up.'When he regained consciousness, doctors were cutting off his suit and administering adrenaline injections. 'It'll always be a dangerous sport, and I think that is probably a little bit of the excitement, knowing you're always on the edge of having an accident. That's a buzz.'